Commitment Issues
by fringeperson
Summary: Spoilers season 3. Daria escapes to the Lane household, but finds herself wanting to escape her own mind. Disclaimer: do not own Daria. COMPLETE. DariaxTrent
1. Chapter 1

Something was bothering Daria. It was keeping her up too, which was frustrating even if it was Friday night and she didn't have to think of school tomorrow.

She was staying at Jane's house tonight, escaping Quinn, but the claim was somewhat phoney. Jane herself was out with Tom, so while Daria had told her mother that she would be hanging with Jane all weekend, it was a complete lie. When Trent had answered the door, he had, understandably, been confused until Daria had explained her reasoning.

The multimedia project, and ensuing apology from Trent, had happened a couple of days ago and was understandably still fresh in Daria's mind, but that wasn't keeping her up. At least, not exactly…

She'd been heading back to her room with a drink when Jake had asked her to sit with him a bit. The TV was on, and of all things, the car add with Trent's jingle was playing.

"Hey, that sounds like Trent!" Jake had exclaimed, surprised.

It surprised Daria that her father even remembered Trent, even if he had stayed over a couple of times – when the Lane house had been invaded by _all_ of it's inhabitants, and during the storm – and it got her thinking.

"That's cause it is Dad," she said, getting up from the couch and heading up to her room.

The Fashion Club had chosen that moment to enter the house.

Daria had quickly swallowed her drink, packed her overnight bag, and told her mother where she was going. She didn't bother calling Jane, she knew her friend had plans, but she also knew that Jane was sympathetic to this plight of hers and unlikely to turn her down.

Now, in the Lane household, Daria was sitting in Penny's room with a book and listening to Trent practice down the hall.

She couldn't seem to absorb the words printed on the page before her however.

_Trent explained that he was in a creative slump, and that he's no good working to deadlines, but … he must have worked that jingle to a deadline, and it wasn't even his usual style of music…_ the thoughts just kept running around in her head.

"Actually, I can understand how _doing_ that jingle could sap his creativity," Daria commented to herself. The two events were kind of close together after all.

Daria checked the clock. Huh. It was almost 2 in the morning. She knew why she was still up: the confusion wouldn't let her sleep… but why was Trent still up? She could hear him playing still. Maybe he was out of his slump now and on a roll.

Hell, she wasn't sleeping. She might was well stop pretending. Besides, as much as she refused to admit it to Jane, she _did_ like watching – _listening_ – to Trent play. He was a pretty good musician. Lousy lyricist, but good musician.

---

His door was open, and while he wasn't singing – something for which Daria was grateful – he did seem to be writing lyrics down between chords, nodding his head and mumbling now and then.

Daria knocked, letting him know she was there.

"Hey Daria, come on in," he said. "Maybe you can help me out here."

"Come out of the slump then?" she asked, sitting down on the bed beside him, giving herself a bit of space between herself and him, but also providing a view of his lyrics book.

"Been inspired, but it's not coming together smoothly," he explained, sitting back away from the words he was writing and putting fingers to strings again.

"Well the music sounded good from what I could hear down the hall," Daria offered, leaning forward to see what Trent had written.

"Thanks," Trent said, before glancing the clock. "Man, it's _early_, sorry if I've been keeping you awake."

Daria shook her head. "I couldn't sleep anyway," she answered, her eyes fixed on Trent's lyrics.

Been such a fool

_It wasn't cool_

_So much for school_

_One golden rule_

_Take all the blame_

_And feel the shame_

_Stuck to your name_

_Because you came_

_You were no help_

_Foolish whelp_

_Worse than kelp_

_So now you yelp_

"What do you think Daria?" Trent asked, breaking off his strumming.

"I think that unlike most of your other original song lyrics, I think I understand this one," Daria said, slightly surprised by the coherency of the lyrics, even if she was simultaneously in awe of how many rhymes Trent had used.

"You find Mystik Spiral's lyrics confusing?" Trent asked, as if the idea of anything confusing Daria was beyond comprehension.

"I understood the song you wrote for Jane's birthday, and Icebox woman… kinda… but a lot of your others made absolutely no sense to me," Daria stated, as kindly as she could.

Trent nodded. That made more sense he guessed. It wasn't that the lyrics confused Daria, so much as they simply couldn't be understood enough to begin comprehending them.

"So what inspired you?" Daria asked, turning from the page to look at Trent.

"Thought you said you understood this one," Trent said, trying a smirk on and raising an eyebrow.

"I said I _think_ I understand this one," Daria corrected. "It's about a screw-up, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Trent agreed. "Biggest damn screw-up to date, apart from the whole Monique thing."

"Did you end up getting a song out of that?" Daria asked, suddenly recalling that part of their parting when the Lanes had once more scattered around the world.

"Not that I can perform in public," Trent answered with a chuckle.

Daria gave a small smile at that thought. It helped that she knew that Trent had been the one to end it, so it was unlikely a song about how much he wanted her back or anything.

"So what was the mistake that inspired this song? Or do I not ask?"

"Selling out, and the slump it caused, and then blowing the assignment for you and Janey," Trent answered. "I _can_ do deadlines, the damn jingle had one and I made it, but… Dammit, I really am sorry Daria."

"That's okay Trent," Daria said. "I don't know how I expected you to do music for a high school project, when you didn't even know what the project was."

Trent sat up straight and blinked a few times.

"That's a good point," he said. "I figured you would have wanted the kind of music the band usually plays, or you wouldn't have asked, but that's a really good point."

"So we both screwed up a bit on this one, and probably should have worked together on the music. Hell, it might have helped you out of your slump sooner," Daria suggested.

"Perhaps," Trent agreed with a shrug. "Hey, it's early, and I'm not getting any further with this song tonight. I'm going to sleep, you?"

"Yeah, thanks Trent."


	2. Chapter 2

Daria wasn't sure what time she woke up, but as it was Saturday at the Lane house, it didn't matter. The house was silent compared to the activity of the Morgandorffer house, where Helen would be raving on the phone, Quinn would be playing her teeny-bopper music and gossiping about outfits, and Jake would be crying, ranting about his father, or trying too hard to be cheerful.

However, there was still _sound_, and it seemed to be coming from Jane's room.

"Are kangaroos really capable of murder? Find out next on Sick, Sad World!" and if that didn't merit a sarcastic comment, what did?

Standing in Jane's door now, Daria considered.

"Maybe I should convince Quinn to go to Australia," she said at last.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Jane said, smiling over at her friend. "Apparently their accent is really popular right now. I think it has something to do with those Hanson brothers, but I could be wrong."

"What time did you get in?" Daria asked, managing to sound curious but not at all criticising.

"Around about 1am. I noticed you were lost in a book and looking frustrated, so I didn't stick my head out, and Trent was somehow playing music at that time, which weirded me out. That boy is rarely awake normally, what's he doing up at that time of night?" Jane demanded, not expecting any answer.

True to form, Daria kept her mouth shut. Jane had been getting better about not setting Daria up for heartbreak with Trent, particularly since that multimedia project and being so busy with young Thomas, but she would sooner avoid re-kindling the potential.

"What time is it anyway?" Daria asked. The question was semi-related, so she could get away with changing the subject, particularly since Jane had no reason to believe that Daria had any knowledge regarding the answer she wanted.

"About a half-past 11. Too late for breakfast but too early for lunch. Wanna watch TV for an hour then go get pizza?" Jane offered.

"Just the two of us?" Daria asked. "No plans with Tom today?"

"Tom and I had a late night, so no Tom. Trent maybe, if he's awake by then. The caveman needs his food, and it's pretty much been my job to make sure he gets it since we were kids. I wouldn't count on it, since he was awake during the night, but do ya mind?" asked Jane.

"Sure, but I appreciate that you explained the likelihood of company. You know, if we got take away, whatever we don't eat can go in the Lane refrigerator until Trent wakes up or we get hungry again," Daria suggested.

"Good point, and an excellent plan, amiga. So, we'll watch the killer kangaroos and then get that pie," Jane said with a delighted stroke of red paint across her canvas.

Half an hour later, and the conclusion was that the "killer kangaroos" were disappointing.

"I can't believe they hyped up some old biddy's dog like that," Daria said, disappointed as she followed Jane down the stairs.

"I know, but on the bright side, the dog's stomach _was_ kicked through its spine," Jane said consolingly. "And they _can_ do that to any other soft-bellied creature who got close enough."

"Like stupid humans who call them Skippy," came the sardonic rejoinder, with a tiny hint of a smile on Daria's lips. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up."

"No problem. Now, let's see about ordering that pizza," Jane suggested, heading for the phone.

"Double cheese and peperoni," Trent said as he slouched into the room.

"For your information Trent, we're getting a vegetarian pizza with no cheese," Jane quipped, dialling the number for pizza king.

"Can't fool me Janey," Trent said. "I know you can't stand cheese-free pizza," Trent said with a raised eyebrow.

"You're too smart for me," Jane agreed with a smile. "Hey pizza king? Yeah, I want a …"

"Hey Daria, you sleep alright after?" Trent asked quietly while Jane ordered the pizza.

"I guess so," Daria answered with a shrug. "I wasn't awake to notice, which was an improvement."

Trent laughed. "Good one Daria."

"Pizza's in ten minutes and if they're late we get it five bucks off," Jane said, putting the phone down.

"So who's got a watch?" Trent asked.

Daria sighed and checked the time on hers. The clock in the Lane front hall hadn't worked since she'd met them, and while Jane and Trent both had alarm clocks in their rooms (at least one of which was always ignored) they knew they wouldn't be going up to watch the time pass.

"I recommend we use this time to find the cash to pay for the pizza. There's gotta be some money lying around the house somewhere," Jane said. "And you can help," she added, jabbing a finger at Trent. "Rather than just slinking off to pretend to practice some more."

Trent shrugged and headed back to his room, checking beneath the couch cushions on his way past.

By the time the pizza had shown up (three minutes late) Trent had found five bucks in small change, Jane had found a rogue ten and Daria had produced three dollars from the bottom of her bag and the plastic she had swiped from Quinn's room before leaving. A small act of service to her father, since it was his card.

The plastic wasn't needed.


	3. Chapter 3

Trent had expressed a need to go to Dega Street for guitar strings about halfway through his pizza, an idea which Jane promptly jumped on. She was always on the look out for new and interesting art supplies after all, and Dega Street was never short of inspiration either.

It was a more appealing prospect than going home, so Daria agreed to come too. No mention was made of the plastic she had with her, but she tucked it into her pocket just the same.

Trent drove, found a park, and the three got out of Trent's car. Daria paused to wonder why they hadn't taken _this_ rather than the Tank to get to Alternapalooza, since the car was in such superior condition and less inclined to guzzle the gas it was fed. No point in dwelling now, though if invited to go next year, she would make that recommendation. Trent's car was a more comfortable ride too.

Getting out of the car, Daria noticed that they had stopped out front of _that_ clothes shop, and it _still_ had the dress in the window that Trent had said she would look good in. Suppressing a sigh, Daria knew it could have been worse – they could have parked in front of the tattoo and piercing parlour.

"Hey Daria," Trent said, breaking into her thoughts. "Since you've got your dad's card, why don't you buy that dress? I'm sure it would look good on you."

Jane raised an eyebrow. The dress her brother was pointing out _would_ look good on Daria, but as much as she had been trying to weasel them together since Trent had finally dumped Monique properly, she had no idea that he'd actually _noticed_ things like that about Daria.

"_Cue to try harder, and from both sides."_ Jane decided to herself.

Daria however, shook her head.

"If I used my dad's card to buy clothing, I'd be acting like Quinn, something I refuse to do unless I am mocking her in the act," she stated.

Jane chuckled. "Oh yeah, _which is my best side?_ Damn that girl is vapid," she said, recalling the time they had documented the fashion teeny-bopper.

"We're not going to tell anyone Daria," Trent pointed out.

"And when it comes up on the credit history, it will be mocking your sister's sense of fashion by suggesting that she might have bought something on Dega Street," Jane further wheedled.

"The offer is as tempting as buying the most horrible thing in Cashman's and leaving it in Quinn's wardrobe so that she can wonder what she was thinking," Daria once again dead-panned.

"Big difference here though," Jane pointed out. "It's not the evil Cashman's, and Quinn can still panic because you're wearing something different. You know how she feels about you upsetting the popularity regulator."

"I did not enjoy my five minutes of pretending to be Quinn in order to snap her out of pretending to be a brain," Daria had crossed her arms in defence by this point.

"Come on Daria, it would be hot."

"That's what you said to get my navel pierced."

"Which reminds me, we have to get you a new piercing since that one's gone," Jane added, smiling wickedly.

"I took it _out_ because it itched so much. What makes you think another piercing won't have the same result?" Daria demanded, far more capable of resisting Jane's wheedling that she was with Trent. It all just came with practice really.

"The bellybutton has a habit of itching more than anywhere else," Jane admitted. "You should still get the dress."

Daria was just grateful that she knew where the shop was that sold guitar strings. It meant she was able to walk out on the conversation in the correct direction.

"Hey Janey," Trent said, leaning in a little closer. "What size would you say Daria is?"

Jane shrugged. "Bout the same as me, I'd guess, underneath that jacket of course."

Trent nodded. "That's what I thought. Be right back." With that parting thought, Trent entered the clothes shop. Five minutes later he re-emerged with a bag. This he put into the car before heading up to the guitar shop to get those strings he needed.

"_On second thoughts, maybe if I stay shut-the-hell-up, they'll figure it out for themselves…"_ Jane thought to herself, rubbing her chin before following her friend and brother. Guitar strings were good for more than just playing guitar after all.


	4. Chapter 4

The next Monday, after Jane had left for school, with Daria, Trent hauled himself out of bed. He'd set the alarm on his clock for once, and had been aware of the world for a while now.

Shuffling to the hall phone, where all the numbers were kept, Trent looked up the "in case of Daria-type emergencies" numbers, and called Helen Morgandorffer's work.

Trent was not surprised that the female voice on the other end of the phone was not immediately Helen, or that said female sounded stressed.

"Chill ma'am, nothing bad shall come from this phone call," Trent said, holding in a chuckle for the sake of the woman's sanity.

There was a distinct sigh of relief down the line.

"I just want to know a convenient time to drop a package around for Helen, preferably when she has a few minutes of down time," he continued.

The woman explained Helen's given lunch break, and her habit of working through most of it, while likewise suggesting that to be the best time. Trent thanked her and wished her a good day before hanging up. He didn't have to know this woman to know that she was being seriously over-stressed by whatever Helen had her up to.

Trent returned to his room, rediscovered the bag with the dress in it that he'd bought on Saturday, and considered what might be the best way to wrap this gift. Considering his plan… better to just make sure it wasn't going to get any wrinkles from the way it was folded and put it back in the bag. Besides, the bag had the added convenience of useful handles.

---

"What was that about?" Helen asked, sorting through some papers.

"A young man wanted to know the most opportune time to drop a package by, I recommended lunch," Janet answered nervously.

"Oh? Why would I be getting a package?" Helen asked, surprised enough to put the papers down a moment.

"I got the impression that he wanted to explain that when he dropped it by, which is why I suggested lunch. You don't have any lunch conferences at all this week," Janet answered, shrugging and returning to her typing.

"I suppose," Helen said, likewise returning to her legal documents.

---

Trent arrived exactly fifteen minutes into the designated lunch break, wearing clothes so clean and neat it was hard to believe they had existed in the Lane house. It was actually the suit he'd worn to all of Wind's weddings. A pale green cotton shirt, black suit jacket and slacks. However, despite the formality of this simple suit, Trent wore these clothes the same way he wore his faded T and worn out grey jeans.

"_When surrounded by lawyers, don't look like someone who should need one for assault,"_ he had reminded himself before he had left the house, and this was the result.

He asked at the reception for Helen Morgandorffer's office, and was pointed the way by a receptionist that had seemed as stressed as the woman on the phone earlier had been.

"_Name on the door and everything,"_ he thought to himself as he knocked on the door and was called in.

"Hey Mrs Morgandorffer," he said as he stood before her desk.

"Trent? What are you doing here?" Helen asked, surprised had moved into shock.

"I called earlier," he said, holding up the bag. "Got a proposition for you."

"The package Janet said someone wanted to bring by at lunch?" Helen asked, looking from Trent, to the bag, and back again. "I'm listening," she added, gesturing for Trent to take the seat opposite her desk.

"I think we can both agree, Daria doesn't socialise much," Trent started, sitting down, placing the bag on the desk in front of Helen. "Or do anything at all that might make her seem even remotely like her sister, or just about anybody else."

"Got that right," Helen lamented briefly, pulling on the edge of the paper bag to peer inside.

"That's actually for Daria. Janey, Daria and I all went to Dega Street on Saturday. Janey and I think it would look good on Daria –"

"But she naturally refused to spend money on clothing," Helen cut in, a rueful smile on her face.

A matching one grew on Trent's features.

"Right, she just walked off towards another shop. I went in and bought it for her, based on the idea that she and Janey are about the same size. Problem is, I can't give it to her," Trent continued.

Helen waited for the full explanation.

"If I gave Janey anything without an occasion to back it up, she'd wonder what was going on, and she's my little sister. I bought this for Daria just because I thought it'd look good, and that was my only reason. I don't know when her birthday is to give it to her, and I don't even know if she will have gotten taller or lost weight or what by then," Trent continued.

"So where do I come into this, Trent?" Helen asked, understanding his standpoint, but still a little confused.

"You are able to hang it up in her room without even telling her. She'll wonder what the hell is going on, and as her mother, she will ask you first. You get to take as much credit for being aware of her person, tastes, interests, and potential without treating her like or turning her into her sister."

Helen was becoming steadily more impressed with Trent. The few times she had spent any amount of time with him, he had seemed a musical bum and a school dropout. Convicted, but passive about the implementation of that conviction.

"What do you get from this deal Trent?" Helen asked.

"Hopefully I get to see her in a nice dress next time she comes to a Mystik Spiral gig. Not that there's anything wrong with what she wears now, but…" Trent actually wasn't sure. _"Why did I buy it for her?"_

"Trent, do you like my daughter?" Helen asked, her tone both gentle and serious.

"Isn't that entrapment? I can't say yes or no to that without getting some kind of trouble about my answer," Trent said, raising an eyebrow.

"You've really impressed me today Trent, and I mean that. If you _do_ like Daria, my only advice to you is, for her sake, be as completely honest as you can be," Helen said.

Trent gave Helen a long look.

"I know, a petition of honesty from a lawyer, the stereotypical irony of that statement does not escape me," Helen said, smiling. "I'll hang this up in Daria's closet, and you will be as completely honest with Daria as you can be, how does that sound for a deal Trent?"

"Pretty good, Mrs Morgandorffer," Trent answered, standing up and reaching out to shake the domineering woman's hand before heading for her door.

"And Trent?" Helen called once she had stashed the bag beside her briefcase.

"Yeah Mrs M?"

"If you ever want a job negotiating other people around to your way of thinking, you can list me as a reference," Helen said, waving him out happily.

Trent laughed, breaking down into a cough.

"Sure thing Mrs M," he said.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane pulled Daria up short as they left school for the day. Trent's car was parked out front, and Trent was standing beside it, arms crossed and probably looking cooler than he had for quite some time. Considering the number of teeny-boppers standing fifteen feet away, whispering and giggling and giving him furtive glances.

Of course, Trent was an _older guy_, with a _car_, he was _attractive_, and currently they couldn't see his tattoos and were far enough away to not see his piercings. Jane wondered if associating with him would be bad for her all of a sudden; she really didn't want to have to deal with those girls asking her how she knew Trent and if he was available…

Or perhaps she would be able to scare them away by getting Daria and herself into the car with him. That would be good, and probably why he was there. Jane began forward movement once again, bringing Daria with her.

"What are you doing here Trent?" Jane asked. "I thought you escaped already. Li can't have decided she wants you back."

"Nah," Trent said, smirking at the joke. "Just came to pick up my two favourite girls," he explained, opening the passenger side door of his car.

"Thanks bro," Jane said, letting Daria get in first while she gave her brother a sibling-slug to the arm.

"What's the occasion?" Daria asked, as Trent pulled out of the Lawndale High circuit.

"I'm going to watch you guys do homework, while I work on some lyrics and we all eat pizza," Trent said, smiling vaguely.

"Sounds dull, could we skip the homework and just have the lyrics and pizza?" Jane asked.

"Nope. If any one mind wanders, it will automatically and accidentally take the other minds with it, and I need to work on these songs. Mystik Spiral has played Ice Box Woman almost too many times, just because we don't have enough other material. What homework do you have?"

In the time it had taken for Trent to explain his reasoning, they had reached Pizza King and he'd found a parking spot.

"Write a two-page essay for Mr DiMartino on the origin of Thanksgiving and it's relevance today, a few algebra equations, and a poem that expresses something about ourselves for Mr O'Neil," Jane answered, holding open the door to let her brother and friend in before her.

"The essay will be easy for anybody who didn't sleep through class, algebra is a whole lot of set formulas, and Mr O'Neil should really know better," Daria added, moving to a table and taking a seat.

"Here's the plan, you guys do the algebra first, while I order and wait for the pizza. Once you're done with those it's poetry, and I'll work on my lyrics until you've finished both you're poems and at least a third of the first page for DiMartino," Trent said, shuffling off to the counter to order. There were a few people ahead of him in the line, so he had a little wait.

"Jane," Daria asked quietly as the two friends pulled out their homework at the yet-empty table. "Are we being bribed, by Trent, to do our homework, with _pizza_?"

"You know something Daria, I think we are. It's kinda worrying," Jane said, looking in the direction of her brother before turning to the algebra. The sooner it was done, really, the better.

---

After the pre-determined amount of homework was done and two pizzas had been collectively consumed by the three of them, Trent dropped Daria back at her house before he took Jane home.

"Oh, hey Daria, Mystik Spiral has a gig this Friday. You're coming right?" Trent asked just before he pulled away from the curb.

"Sure I guess, unless my parents come up with some strange new torture," Daria said.

"Great, but Friday hopefully we'll have some of these new songs ready."

Daria nodded and stepped back from the car, watching the blue junkyard porshe drive off. She remembered laughing when Jane told her that Trent had bought the porshe for fifty bucks from the wreckers and fixed it up in shop-class at Lawndale High. Apparently, the only thing that had been wrong with it was the brakes, but the previous owner had dumped it and bought a new one rather than just getting it fixed.

When she'd heard that, Daria had asked why Trent hadn't done a social-commentary song based on his car.

Jane said she thought he might have done, but apparently if it existed, it didn't get played much.

---

Daria wondered what her mother was doing out of her office before five, but checking her watch, discovered that it was actually later than she had thought it was.

"Hi honey, how was school today?" Helen asked.

"The usual, but I was a bit surprised after school when Trent came to pick up Jane and me, then treated us to pizza while he watched us do some of our homework," Daria said.

"Well, he's a resourceful young man," Helen said, turning a page of a file that was open on the kitchen counter as she absently stirred a pot of what was probably canned soup just put in a pot to heat it up. "He has to be, to follow his dream the way he does. I remember when your father and I were more like the Lanes…"

Daria didn't know if she should be horrified or awed, that her parents had once been vaguely normal, relaxed people. Of course, she knew they had been hippies before they had become the capitalists they were today, but putting that into the context of "Helen Morgandorffer was once like Janet Lane" was kind of scary.

Thankfully, she didn't have to worry about if she wanted to hear more or not, as her mother was drawn back to her present reality.

Daria headed up to her room.

Closing the door behind her, she dumped her bag by her desk and went to hang up her green jacket in her closet before rolling over on her bed for a while with Stoker's Dracula. She stopped short on that when she saw what was hanging in there.

It was that dress. _The _dress. How did it get there? There was no way it could be there. She had to be seeing things; it was just a mirage, surely! When she tentatively reached for it though, real fabric met her fingertips.

Slightly awed and mildly terrified, Daria backed away from the closet before going back downstairs, away from the dress.

"Is something wrong honey?" Helen asked, when Daria appeared again in the kitchen.

"Uh, I'm not sure…" Daria answered.

"The dress is the right size, isn't it?" she asked carefully, guessing the reason for the paleness of her daughter's face.

"You know about that dress?" Daria asked, surprised.

"I decided to be adventurous and go to Dega Street for my lunch break, saw the dress and thought of you. Even if you don't dress up much, it's still nice to have something there if you ever do want to," Helen pointed out.

"That's really cool Mom," Daria said, very surprised. When it came to cool, older female relatives, Daria normally went straight to her Aunt Amy, but it seemed Helen Morgandorffer, for all her maternal insecurities, could also pull it off every now and then.

"Just don't tell Quinn," Helen said pleasantly. "Or Jake. They'll both make a big deal out of it, and for both our sakes I'd like to avoid that."

Daria almost smiled at that. "I will take it to the grave," she promised, quietly returning to her room, thoughts determinedly on only her homework.


	6. Chapter 6

Daria realised when she woke up the next morning that she would not be able to wear the dress. At least not for some time. It would look like she had snuck back to the shop and bought it when the Lane's weren't looking, and that would be bad.

She'd probably end up trying it on only in her room for the first month, then maybe wear it to the next big family thing she was forced to go to – she hoped it was a wedding, since the dress was black. Until she had endured such torture, however, she would not be able to comfortably wear the dress anywhere in Lawndale but her room.

Damn. It was the coolest thing her mother had done for her too.

Daria needed to slap herself. She was obsessing over a dress! She resolutely shut her closet and started back up on her homework, a more productive pass time than watching Sick Sad World, but a far less entertaining one.

---

"Hey Trent, how're you getting the dress to Daria without it looking as suspicious to her as it does to me?" Jane asked.

"Got Helen involved, and what do you mean?" Trent asked, though he knew, since he had been over it all with Mrs Morgandorffer earlier in the day.

"Trent, you bought a dress, for no particular reason, for my best friend, who happens to be female and at one point did, and may still, have a crush on you!" Jane exclaimed, waving her arms around in the air to get her point across.

Trent's head whipped around faster than he usually moved. Jane, realising what she had just said froze up for a moment before clamping one hand over her mouth.

Under her brother's shocked gaze, Jane slowly withdrew the appendage from her lips.

"Pretend I didn't say that," she said flatly.

"A bit hard, Janey. I think you effectively burned the words into my mind," Trent leant forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and his forehead in one hand. "And the talk I had with Mrs M earlier is kinda not helping," he added with a defeated sigh.

"Talk?" Jane asked.

"Many fancy words passing lips in order to convince the lawyer-woman to agree with me," Trent explained.

"Oh, _talk_," Jane said, nodding. "What did Helen have to say for herself?"

"I think I have her permission to date Daria," Trent said.

"Wow!" Jane said. "I know it's a double standard, but while Helen doesn't seem to care much about who Quinn dates, she's very protective of Daria. Hang on, what do you mean by 'you think'?"

"She just said I should be as honest with Daria as I could be," Trent explained. "I'm gonna go practice for a while."

"Okay," Jane said, in slight awe over the short but very revealing conversation she had just had with her favourite older brother. No offence to Wind, but he was just always waaaaaay too weepy.

She contemplated calling Daria, but what would she say? 'Hey, did you find the dress in your closet?', or perhaps 'I just spilled to Trent about your crush, sorry', or maybe the real winner 'Trent likes you, but I think maybe he's too clueless to have noticed his _own_ feelings.'

Jane shook her head. No, none of it would really be a good idea to say to Daria, probably ever. Instead, she headed up to her room and decided she'd get in some time with her power tools before Tom decided to unexpectedly show up – which they had agreed he would do at the end of their last date. She'd ease her sweet and cultured beau into the ways of Lanes, and keep things like the power tools and the hot glue gun away from his eyes and ears for a little while.

---

Trent shut himself in his room with his mess and his acoustic guitar and considered his day and the minor revelations that had come with it.

"Trent, do you like my daughter?" "…at one point did, and still may, have a crush on you!"

He shifted his bejewelled fingers into the position for A major, and recalled an earlier thought of his own. "Why _did_ I buy her that dress? Just cause I thought it would look hot? I never did that for any girl I was dating, and Daria is just Janey's best friend…"

"_Shame you're not a bit older, otherwise I could take you out,"_ he'd said when he'd broken up with Monique, and when he'd screwed up with the multi-media project he'd kissed her cheek after he'd finished apologising… and the way that rash broke out all over her like some blush-gone-mad over her skin when Jane told her he would be giving them a lift some place that once.

"Potential to screw up a perfectly good passive friendship," Trent mused quietly. He blinked a couple of times before pulling out his idea's book and writing that down. It could make a good lyric for a song.

Actually, that was a good idea. Maybe he should write a song for Daria, apart from that one about screwing up that she'd read Saturday night… Yeah, that was a really good idea, but it would probably end up being very different to the other songs Mystik Spiral played.

---

"Hey, Trent said he saw your mom in Dega Street the other day," Jane said as she walked to LHS with Daria the next morning. The story was false, but collaborated.

Daria stayed almost determinedly silent. Unsure if she should be embarrassed that her mom was 'trying to be hip' or relieved at having an explanation for the dress.

"She was in that clothes shop apparently. Think it might have scared the cave man a bit. I started nagging at him once you got out of the car yesterday, he was still awake because of the shock, or something like that. Any idea what she was doing there, or are you still sensibly avoiding your own family?" Jane asked.

"She… bought me the dress," Daria admitted.

"Wow, so Helen can be cool about stuff other than providing legal help against Ms Li. Who knew?" Jane said, quirking a smirk on her red-painted lips.

"Yeah, who knew…" Daria agreed quietly as she opened the door to the school.

"You going to wear it to the gig this Friday?" Jane probed as they headed for homeroom.

"Maybe. I'm not sure if I'll still be in denial about the existence of the dress is my closet by then," Daria said, sliding into her seat.

Jane shrugged. "Up to you amiga," she said as she likewise sat down. "I'd like to see how it looks though, mind if I come over after school? After all, Trent's working on more new stuff, and it's never it's best in the formative stages."

"Sure."


	7. Chapter 7

Jane whistled in appreciation when Daria stepped out of her closet wearing the dress. Trent sure knew how to pick 'em, and he was absolutely right. She was glad her guess had been right about the size too. If they'd gotten it wrong, that would have been embarrassing, particularly since they'd set it up so that it came from Mrs M, rather than from them.

"That good huh?" Daria asked, raising an eyebrow from behind her glasses to behind her hair. The motion was invisible, but the tone of voice that went with it was clearly audible.

"Yep," Jane confirmed. "Any guy at the club this Friday, with the provision that you wear this dress rather than your all-concealing green jacket, will notice you."

"Sounds like a reason not to wear it," Daria said flatly.

"Okay, let me re-phrase: _Trent_ will love it, and don't you dare say that's a reason to not wear it," Jane said, wagging a finger at her best friend to make sure she got her point across.

"You mean if he can see me past the spot light and the crowds of young men who will be flocking to my side due to my wearing the garment," Daria said. Sitting down on her bed next to Jane, Daria sighed. "Maybe some other Friday night, but not this one I think."

"Alright," Jane conceded reluctantly. "That dress is probably too nice to wear to a Spiral gig anyway."

"Then why did you suggest that I do so?"

Jane shrugged.

---

Daria had changed out of the dress and was back in her usual clothes once more, and the two friends were walking to Pizza King.

"Oh, I think I owe you an apology," Jane said suddenly.

"You mean for something apart from ditching me for your boyfriend lately? Though I appreciate that you haven't yet this week," Daria said.

"Well, that too I guess, but yes, for something other than that," Jane said.

"What is it Jane?" Daria asked, opening the door to their preferred grease-intake.

"I spilled to Trent about your crush on him."

"That's it. No way am I wearing the dress this Friday, or possibly any other day, Friday or otherwise, for at least a month," Daria said, her eyes narrowly fixed upon her best friend.

"Aw c'mon! Trent was the one who said you'd look good in that dress! He deserves to get to see you in it at least once!" Jane pleaded.

"Forget it Lane, not for a month. As of now, it will take serious bribery to get me into it for the next thirty-one days," Daria dead panned as she headed for the pizza.

"_Guess I'll have to look into finding some bribe money then,"_ Jane thought to herself. _"Dammit."_

---

When Jane got home, the first words out of Trent's mouth were "So how did it look on her?"

Jane's hands went straight to her hips in an irritated manner.

"She tried it on for me, but she won't wear it, so it doesn't matter," Jane said, not wanting to be caught between her brother and her best friend.

"All the more reason for me to ask, if I won't get to see it," Trent said, privately upset that she wouldn't wear it, but still curious to know if he had been right in the first place.

"Trent," Jane started, squaring up to her brother as he sat on their beat-up old couch. "Have you figured out what you feel towards Daria?"

"No, not completely, but I think I'm getting closer. Why?"

"Until you figure it out, I'm not telling you how she looks in the dress," Jane said, leaning over his nearly prone form to get her point across. "If you're not certain then it doesn't matter."

The doorbell rang at that moment, and Trent felt mild relief that Janey was no longer hovering over him as she went to answer it.

It was Tom. They were going out for a while.

_"Cool, more thinking time."_

---

The rest of the school week passed Daria by in its usual uneventful blur. A mix of mentally disturbed faculty, utterly superficial peers, and the unusual distress caused by a combination of one friend, her brother and an item of clothing in her closet provided by her mother.

Jane seemed to have dropped the dress issue, which was both a relief and a worry, since Daria _knew_ her friend's attention span wasn't that short. Even with Tom to distract her from the issue, Daria should still have been hearing a bit about it during the school hours.

She was vaguely concerned that her mother would ask her why she wasn't wearing it when she went out on Friday night, but she had her answer ready for that at least. As Jane had pointed out, the Zen wasn't exactly the place for a dress like that – unless she wanted to deal with every other person of the great unwashed that went to the Spiral's gigs.

---

Trent had spent a lot of the week with the lyrics, and working out the music, and then there was band practice every day at 12 noon, at his insistence – even if he normally was still asleep at that time, it really was the best for everybody concerned. They wouldn't get better if they didn't practice, and between the damn commercial and his personal issues – at least, the one that wore glasses and he'd recently bought a dress for – he'd decided that it was time and past to really get serious.

He'd thought it before, and the band had always thought they _were_ being serious about their music, but Trent knew that really they weren't. Serious meant putting everything non-vital aside completely for the sake of improvement. Trent didn't have much in that area to sacrifice, mostly what he did with his leisure time was sleep, and now that he was keeping that to night time only, he was actually feeling less tired. He didn't understand why, but that was cool.

He'd figured out five more songs, as well as the one he'd shown Daria on Saturday, and the band had them all down. It was a minor miracle really, and Trent sure hoped it payed off. The Zen wasn't really the place that attracted talent scouts often, but there _was_ a very solid rumour that a representative from a smaller record house would be there tonight. Probably just for a drink, but no one went were music was going to be played if they didn't like that kind of music, right?

Well, Trent hoped they got picked up anyway. The Harpies would also be playing tonight, and if Monique got picked up, and not him, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. Unless, of course, she only got picked up because she was female – that, he wouldn't mind so much. Of course, there was no way he'd ever find out for sure.

Potential for a recording contract aside, Trent wanted to get a couple of minutes to talk with Daria about that _other_ thing he'd spent most of his week figuring out: his feelings for her.

When it came to his music, he had no issues with commitment, so that left him with wondering if he just had issues committing to people, and he didn't like that idea too much. He'd seen what having commitment issues could do to people in almost every member of his family. His parents were never around and rarely in the same company. Summer's children were always running away from her. Wind had been through three divorces now, crying desperately every time. He didn't even want to think about Penny, who he wasn't sure cared about anybody else at all with the way she ripped into everybody. Jane seemed too young to suffer from this affliction though, and he hoped he could break the mould himself…

He sighed as he closed the boot of his car on his gear, the thoughts almost swimming around in his head. He couldn't be distracted while he was playing, he had to be focused.


	8. Chapter 8

Daria sat on her bed with the closet open and was staring at the dress. She had said that she wouldn't wear it tonight, and she wasn't going to, but the damn thing just seemed to not leave her alone. Maybe she should bury it deep within the bowels of her sock drawer for a while… or something.

Trent and Jane would be by soon to take her to Spiral's gig at the Zen tonight. As mind-numbingly safe as Lawndale was, it was better to be driven than walk, and there was no way Daria was getting a lift from either of her parents.

When the doorbell rang and Jake called up the stairs for her, Daria was relieved to get away from the dress, but unusually unsure about entering the presence of the Lane siblings without it. This sort of superficial irritation had never bothered her before, and she was beginning to worry.

---

Trent was disappointed that Jane hadn't been simply blowing him off or jerking his chain, and that Daria really wasn't wearing the dress. He kept it hidden though, he was still figuring out his reaction to this girl, his little sister's best friend.

_"Focus man, can't be distracted during a gig."_

He was hanging by the bar with the rest of the band, as well as Daria and Janey, while the Harpies played. He wanted to laugh at the way Daria pulled a face and wiggled a finger in her ear after one particular note.

"What do you think of Monique's band Daria?" Jane asked casually, pointing to Trent's ex with the hand that held her drink.

"Lyrically challenged, and musically fit only for the deaf. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all tone-deaf anyway. Apart from that, they can hold a beat and know how to capture their audience's attention," Daria responded, dead-panning and clearly unimpressed.

Trent almost winced. Okay, so the girls had the work ethic for a band, but they weren't the best musicians, he'd admit that, but that sounded music-critic harsh. He wondered what Daria thought of Mystik Spiral for a moment before questioning if he wanted to know.

"You've just declared yourself unimpressed, how do they 'capture their audience's attention'?" Jane demanded with a chuckle.

"They all have boobs and hips."

Trent coughed, trying to suppress laughter.

"Don't forget the hair and legs," Jane quipped.

"Those too," Daria conceded with a sage-like nod of the head.

---

The Harpies finished their set, and Mystik Spiral left the two girls by the bar to set up their own instruments in the break between sets.

Monique approached Daria and Jane.

"What did you think of our new material?" she asked. Her question was largely directed at Jane, since she had heard them playing more often than Daria, but that did not exclude the auburn-haired girl from answering should she choose. Comparison was not required, only an opinion on the current.

"Not bad," Jane suggested. "Very much in the tradition of grunge and heavy metal bands that have come before."

Monique smiled at that. "Yeah, we decided to move out of the indie style and more into the grunge scene. There just aren't enough chicks playing hard-core."

"In this movement, you have succeeded," Daria said, with only slight blandness.

"Cool," Monique said, smiling still as she left the two girls to their drinks and went to mingle more with the crowd.

"Next time we come to one of Trent's gigs, and the Harpies are also playing, warn me ahead of time," Daria asked Jane.

"Sure thing amiga," Jane answered calmly.

"In return, I will bring a pair of earplugs for you also." It wasn't a joke.

"No offence to Monique of course," Jane said with a smirk.

"I just hate her music, and think that she named her band very well," Daria answered, smirking also.

---

Mystik Spiral played better that night than Daria had ever heard them. Not a difficult accomplishment, but one that they had taken to such a height that she wondered if it were a fluke, or if she were simply so relieved by the absence of the Harpies that they sounded better.

The new songs made sense in a way the old ones hadn't. Trent had apparently taken her small comment into very serious consideration, and it had worked out for them. There was also a bit more melody than they usually went with.

If Daria were musically inclined, she would almost be inclined to join in the chorus and sing along quietly.

"Now _that's_ music," commented a man at the bar in relief. "I was afraid I'd be sitting through another band like the one before."

"It's all new material that Trent's been working on just this week," Jane said, nodding her head at Trent to indicate that she was talking about the lead singer of the band on stage.

Sitting next to the man, she felt it her sisterly duty to do her best in promoting Trent, even to a complete stranger. "The old stuff wasn't quite as good, and he's been making them practice a lot more this last week as well."

The stranger turned to Jane, curious. "You know this how?"

"I'm his sister. Who're you to be curious?"

"Yorik Trenner, just a small representative from a small recording studio, looking for talent we can put on the shelves of alternative music stores around the country," he said, one hand in his pocket, the other around his drink.

"Well what do you know, the rumour mill can be trusted sometimes," Daria said quietly from the other side of Jane, failing in drawing their attention as they discussed the music industry and Mystik Spiral being – potentially – picked up.

Daria let the words wash over her, and for once enjoyed the music of the Zen, until she spotted Tom entering.

She nudged Jane.

"What's up Daria?"

"Your boyfriend is here, and I refuse to have a suddenly pleasant evening feel like it just turned into a half-rotted tomato because I have to converse with him," she explained breifly.

Jane laughed quietly and excused herself to Yorik to fetch Tom.

"Are you also familiar with Mystik Spiral?" Yorik asked, turning his attention to Daria.

"I've come to almost every one of their gigs since I came to this crummy place, and Jane's my best friend, so sometimes I get to hear them when they're practicing too," she said, answering warily enough, while still dutifully maintaining the man's interest in the band.

"Do you like their music then?" he asked.

"They're the only local band that is really any good. Lawndale doesn't attract much in the way of talent, but from the cesspool Mystik Spiral emerged only slightly contaminated by the amount of sheer failure this sub-sect of suburbia swims in," she answered, smirking slightly. It might have been hidden in cynicism and sarcasm, but she was paying the band a compliment.

Yorik managed to find it, as well as appreciating her humour, if the dry chuckle was any indicator.

"You should be on the radio," he said. "If you like, I'll call one of my friends and she'll give you the technical training to run a radio show."

"Why radio?" Daria asked, surprised by the offer and distracted from the music momentarily by it.

"Because that's where the smarter ones go. TV has all the stupidly attractive people without two brain cells to rub together unless they're a guest being interviewed. In radio, you're on your own, and depending on the type of show, you can talk about just about anything you want. The bonus is that you can show up in your pyjamas to work if you want on radio, but for TV you have to sit in a makeup chair for an hour before going on camera," Yorik explained.

"Sounds like a job I could get into," Daria agreed.

The music finally stopped, and Trent's unaccompanied voice came over the sound system.

"Hey, we're Mystik Spiral, we hope you liked our new material. Have a great night, and drive safely."

Daria looked over at the lead vocalist for the band and tucked a small smile away in the corner of her mouth, hiding it so no one would see.

Trent was fairly quick at packing his stuff up, and once it was done, he left the stage, heading for Daria – doing a careful weaving walk between the Zen's patrons.

"Hey Daria, how'd you like the new stuff?" he asked.

"Comparatively or based on it's own merits?" she countered.

Trent coughed. "Compared to the old stuff, then the Harpies, _then_ based on its own merits," he said.

"A definite improvement, don't go back to the old stuff after this show, it would only make it look worse than it did before. The Harpies were shocking, and I think may have destroyed their own ability to distinguish tonal variation or hear anything lower than seventy-five decibels from their own practice sessions. If you'd played only Icebox Woman fifteen times it would have been an improvement on the Harpies."

Daria paused a moment, letting Trent take in what she had said so far while she had a drink.


	9. Chapter 9

Yorik listened intently to the conversation, privately taking in the dynamic the pair had.

Trent coughed. "Thanks for the ego-boost."

Daria smirked. "I haven't gotten to that yet, I have so far only ripped into every thing mercilessly."

Trent laughed. "Give me some credit Daria. I _heard_ you say that we've improved right at the beginning of that."

"Yeah, okay. You have improved. If you were interested in being mainstream, you'd probably have a tough time of it, but you'd be able to do it if you wanted. I'd stick with the alternative music scene though, more people will appreciate your style. The lyrics make sense and the melody, harmony and bass line are all solid, drawing in the listener," Daria paused once again to drink from her cup, irritated to find it empty as she did.

"When did you pick up all the musical jargon?" Trent asked, slightly surprised.

"Class," Daria answered simply. Putting her cup down on the bar, she turned to make introductions.

"Trent, this is Yorik Tremmer. Yorik, Trent Lane, lead singer and driving force of Mystik Spiral."

Yorik nodded politely and continued his introduction by naming the recording company he worked for, as well as his hope that Mystik Spiral would be interested in being handled by their small enterprise.

---

Jane returned with Tom to find all of Mystic Spiral, Yorik and Daria all hovering over a piece of paper with a pen, tearing it into thirds before Yorik shook hands with Trent and Daria. She then heard him bid them a good night and, with Tom's arm around her waist, went to join her friends.

"What did we miss?" Jane asked.

"Mystik Spiral just got picked up," Daria said, allowing her usually tucked away smile to be visible enough for normal people to notice it.

"That's great!" Jane said, leaving Tom's casual embrace to fling her arms around her brother.

"Yeah, and Daria's got a gig on the radio," Trent added, returning his sister's enthusiastic hug.

"No way! Daria broadcasting to cars and stereos around the state?" Jane demanded, her blue eyes popping out of her head as she stared at her friend.

"It will not get me out of high school any earlier, but it may make it more interesting and profitable," Daria answered with a shrug.

---

"Mooooom! Daria is ruining my life _again_!" Quinn cried out, running down the stairs from the bathroom.

"What is it now Quinn?" Helen asks, wearied of her younger daughter's plaintive whine.

"Tell Daria she _can't_ be a radio host! She'll ruin my chances of becoming a professional model!"

"I don't see how Daria's choice of career can affect you Quinn, and if Daria wants to host a radio show then she has my full support," Helen said, smiling at her older daughter as she sat at the table.

"Thanks Mom," Daria said, a small smile on her face.

Helen almost melted at those two words. She rarely heard them from Daria with that level of sincerity.

"I know, let's all go out for dinner tonight to celebrate Daria's future as a star of the sound waves," Jake suggested.

"If we're going to toast my success, which is yet ephemeral, then we are also going to celebrate Jane and Trent's success. Mystik Spiral landed a contract with a small recording studio that does alternative music."

Helen smiled. What a delightfully easy way to invite the Lane's. Normally, Daria would try to keep friends and family separate, but it seemed something had shifted, even just slightly. She knew her daughter hadn't worn the dress on Friday night, and she wasn't above giving the couple a nudge if she thought it would help.

---

"Daria, how would you feel about wearing that dress I bought you to dinner?" Helen asked tactfully from Daria's door.

"I made it clear to Jane that I would not be wearing it for a month unless there was bribery involved. Yes, there is a reason, and no, I don't feel like going into it," Daria answered.

Helen looked at her daughter's slightly forlorn body language and closed the door behind her as she stepped more fully into Daria's room.

"Honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Helen asked, sitting beside her daughter on the bed.

"I'm not sure about this one Mom," Daria said. "It's… complicated."

"That isn't normally a problem you would have," Helen observes. "Which I'm going to guess makes it a matter of heart rather than head."

"Jane told Trent that I had a crush on him."

"Do you?" It was said without any hint of disappointment or disapproval, just curiosity of the most innocent variety.

"I – yes," she admitted, for once allowing herself to be brought into her mother's comforting embrace.

Resigning herself to a fair trade, and making the lawyer in her cry just a little, Helen broke down and told her daughter another truth in exchange for the one that had just been shared with her.


	10. Chapter 10

With hasty, but well co-ordinated shuffling, Daria had re-arranged the celebratory evening. Her parents were allowed to take her to dinner, Quinn was to be nowhere in sight – something both girls could agree on – and then Daria would be allowed seventy-five bucks for whatever she felt like blowing it on.

Once dinner was over, she would be going to a club with Jane, Trent, and unfortunately Tom. A slightly more sanitary club than the Zen though, even if it had a DJ rather than a band providing the music.

Furthermore, she would be wearing the dress. After what her mother had confessed to her, it was even more embarrassing to wear it – on one level. On another, it made it feel even better to wear.

Trent had bought her the dress. He had explained himself to her mother in order to get the dress to her without looking suspicious. Her mother approved.

---

Daria was glad when the dinner was over. Her parents _were_ cool, but if she heard the words 'isn't she great' or 'we're so proud of you' from either one of them one more time, she may not let them live to see the next day.

When her parents dropped her out front of the club, Helen got out of the car too, for one last word with her daughter before she said goodnight.

"If the Lane's don't mind, you can stay until Sunday," she said. Considering it was Friday night now, that was a lot of parent and sibling free time. "I hope you don't mind, but I packed your overnight bag," Helen continued, reaching into the SUV and pulling out a saggy grey sports bag that Daria honestly couldn't remember ever owning.

"Thanks Mom, that's really cool," Daria said, accepting the bag before turning to head to the club door where she was meeting the others.

"One more thing Daria," Helen said, causing Daria to pause and turn to look at Helen again. "I know I sometimes seem more protective of you than you like, and it feels like a double standard when I'm not as protective of Quinn, but that's because – and if you repeat this, I will deny it – you're my first and favourite daughter."

Helen took a deep breath as Daria blinked under the weight of the statement that had just been made.

"Now, go in there, have fun, and get your man," Helen instructed proudly, a feminist at heart, even after so many years.

Daria smiled.

---

Daria spotted the Lane-mobile pulling into a space and, dress and all, jogged to where they were parking. Two cars away and slowed down to a walk and managed to catch Jane's door before it shut, throwing her bag in.

"Mom said not to come home tonight," she said by way of explanation.

Jane didn't seem to notice, she was rather distracted.

"By budda you're wearing it!" she exclaimed, eyes fixed on the figure-enhancing dress Trent had delivered to Helen approximately two weeks ago.

"Mom can be persuasive," Daria said.

"You look good Daria," Tom said, standing next to Jane but without his arm around her.

It was a dangerous first sign that Daria took note of. She had no interest in Tom, and while she had no idea what Jane saw in him, she was happy with him. She refused to be the one to change that.

Jane noticed it too and sparked a lovers' quarrel with "And I don't?"

"Hey Daria," Trent said from behind her.

"_How long has he been there?"_ she asked herself as she turned around.

"Hey Trent."

Jane and Tom headed for the club door, arguing along the way.

"I think there's a couple of things we need to talk about," Trent said, his usual husky voice lowered slightly into a conspiratorial tone, in further effort to make sure the conversation was not overheard by little sister's and their boyfriend's.

"Sure."

Trent opened the car door and let Daria get in the passenger side, climbing in the diver side himself.

---

"Hey, where's Trent?" Jane asked, stopping her argument with Tom when she noticed the absence of her brother.

"And where's Daria?" Tom added.

Jane looked at Tom suspiciously, not liking how much attention he had been paying to her best friend lately. She had asked Daria to be more polite and personable with him, but she also knew Daria didn't enjoy it. If Tom was getting ideas into his head about Daria, then they were completely his ideas. Whatever this was, it didn't bode well. Rather than pointing the finger again so quickly, Jane decided to let this one lie, for now.

Especially since she'd just spotted her brother over the crowds. It really was useful that he was taller sometimes.

The gentle swaying motion of what little she could see of him surprised her a little. He didn't normally go in for slow-moving unless he'd just woken up, and lately he'd been awake a lot more. Besides, even when he was moving, his head didn't usually dip and sway the way it seemed to be doing. It was definitely him though.

Leaving Tom for a moment, Jane went to inspect this phenomenon. When she had reached a point where there were few enough bodies in between for her to see Trent clearly, Jane realised that he was on the dance floor.

Jane herself was floored when she saw that he was dancing with Daria. In a grinding, pressing, clinging, _sexy_ way.

"I never knew you had it in you, Morgandoffer," Jane said quietly to herself, a smile on her face. "Good for you Trent."

---

Trent smiled down at Daria, basking in the sight of her smiling back up at him. Life was really looking up for him now: Mystik Spiral was signed, he was off the couch and going somewhere with his life – even if it wasn't far yet, cause the label was just in the next town – and best of all…

He lowered his head so that his lips pressed against Daria's neck, where he lay gently nibbling kisses all up and down her beautiful pale throat, eliciting a moan from his new girlfriend.

It felt so unbelievably good to be in this new relationship with her. She was smart and sexy, they'd already had a minor blow-up over commitment – the main thing that drove couples apart – and it had actually helped to bring them together.

---

Daria had no idea how Trent did that, but he made her feel hot all over and she just forgot about thinking when he touched her. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way before.

Not only that, she was _happy_. Trent made her happy. Sure he had some habits that bugged her, but she probably had some habits that would bug him too, and now they were a couple, they'd get to figure those out.

Helen approved the relationship, and she knew Jake liked Trent too. Quinn would probably be hysterical that she was dating a musician, particularly a _sexy_ musician, even if it was "just Trent". Another good reason to cling to this happiness she had found.

Slipping a hand into his hair, Daria gently drew Trent away from her neck, and brought her lips to his. It just felt _so damn right_.

THE END


End file.
